Evolution
by tilleygirl
Summary: A partnership evolves into a friendship.
1. Chapter 1 Six months

Chapter 1 - Six months

Marshall closed his eyes, rubbing his throbbing forehead. He resisted the temptation to plug his ears with his fingers. The shouting coming from the next room could probably be heard down the street. His new witnesses were not happy to be here. Elizabeth and Timothy Prader. On the road to divorce by the sound of it. He sincerely wished he were on the road to divorce from this witness and his wife. Every time he met with them, it came down to this. Elizabeth was so angry at Timothy over his perceived betrayal she vibrated with rage, which percolated up through her vocal chords and emerged in decibel breaking shrieks. Marshall was a kind of trigger for that anger. A position with which he was unfamiliar.

He normally had a very good rapport with his witnesses. Elizabeth's open hostility towards him was difficult for him to accept. Served him right for thinking everyone liked him. He glanced over at his partner. Well, maybe not Mary, it was hard to tell with her. Some days she definitely didn't like him, but he thought there were some days she did. Or at least tolerated him.

And the day had started out so promising. Mary had been in a good mood, not something that could be counted on. She had actually brought in coffee for him and Stan. If one glossed over the fact that she wanted something, in this case for Marshall to complete some of her more tedious paperwork, it could almost seem like she had done something nice. Their first two witness visits went extremely well and Mary had even been agreeable to going to his favorite place for lunch. And then came the Praders.

Timothy had been cooking the books on the side for a low level mobster. Elizabeth believed he was an accountant for a small book store. Which he protested with great vigor that he was – this was just a second job. She resented the lies he had told her, she was angry over being torn from her family and her home, she was livid at Timothy for placing his family in danger. He had agreed to testify about the books and the money in exchange for witness protection. He thought he was doing this for his family, as a way to get out, a fresh start. Elizabeth did not see it quite that way. And Elizabeth had connected Marshall in her mind with her present situation. Marshall, who had escorted her away from her home, her life, without her agreement. _It was Timothy who agreed to this, not me!_ Marshall, who had told her everything she had to give up. _No, you can't bring your photos, your diplomas, your cell phone, your furniture, the rest of your clothes. _Marshall, who wouldn't even let her say goodbye to her mother. _I'm sorry Ma'am, it's not allowed. _Every time he showed up her rage bubbled up to the surface and a fresh shouting match ensued. Marshall had come to dread his visits as much as Timothy had. But it was required. He had to check in on them. Like it or not, they were his responsibility.

He opened his eyes and watched Mary out of the corner of his eye, standing with her arms crossed over her chest, studiously examining the contents of the bookshelf by the fireplace. Didn't seem to be much bothered by the shouting. Or was simply tuning it out. Marshall wondered briefly if she had a lot of practice at that.

The Praders two year old daughter Evelyn, came toddling out of the bedroom where her parents were arguing, and made a beeline for Mary. She grasped her pants leg and cowered behind her, as her parents emerged from the bedroom. Mary looked down in surprise. Evie's trusting little face looked up at her, framed by strawberry blond curls Her mouth tightened as she brought her head up to glare at the Praders, Elizabeth still sniping at Timothy.

"Hey, numbnuts," she ground out, as Marshall winced. He was always taken aback at her crudity of language. "You're scaring your kid. And it's got to be bad, if she's looking to me for comfort. Get back in there and duke it out, get this resolved. I am tired of listening to it. Either you're in the program or you're not. Either you stay married or you don't. Elizabeth, if you hate it so much, divorce his sorry ass and leave. Figure it out. You're giving Marshall a headache and then he's cranky the rest of the day. And a cranky Marshall makes me cranky. Stop wasting our time. Figure this out. NOW."

They gave her startled looks and slunk back into the bedroom, closing the door. Evie clutched Mary's leg even tighter and began to suck her thumb. Marshall watched in some surprise as Mary's face softened and she bent down to pick Evie up. One wounded soul attracted to another? Carrying her over to the couch, she gave Marshall a tight smile. She sat down with Evie in her lap, listening with her full attention as Evie babbled about this and that. Marshall leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, trying to reconcile the scene in front of him with the woman he had known for the last six months. Was amused at the thought of him making Mary cranky. Breathing made Mary cranky.

Their partnership had a rocky start. Marshall suspected all of Mary's partnerships had rocky starts. She had tried to exert control from the beginning and left no doubt she expected him to do as she said. Marshall's easygoing personality largely allowed it, but he made it clear he would push back when he believed in something strongly enough. A hint of a smile touched his lips as he recalled the day they met, Mary breezing into the office, stalking over to his desk, thrusting out her hand and giving a firm shake to a startled Marshall.

"Mary Shannon. I've been assigned to you. And if you do what I say, we'll get along fine." Mary had already given him a cursory once over and had clearly arrived at an opinion. Marshall had stared at her, quickly looked her up and down, then unfolded his tall frame from his chair. Still holding Mary's hand in his grasp, he straightened up to his full height and stood just inside what he judged to be her comfort zone. He tightened his hold on her hand, not letting go as she tried to back away and she was forced to look up at him. She had to tilt her head back uncomfortably to meet his eyes.

He held her gaze and said in a measured voice, "Marshall Mann. And I will be happy to do as you say if it is in the best interest of the witness. If it is not, I will take my own counsel." Emerald green eyes flashed at him and she opened her mouth, then shut it again. Grudging respect showed and she nodded.

"Fair enough. Can I have my hand back now?" He had released her with a genuine smile. During the ensuing months, they had arrived at a somewhat uneasy alliance, still feeling each other out. Mary just beginning to realize the depths of the man and Marshall gradually coming to understand just how much of Mary's prickly personality was a cover for deep seated hurts and fears. Both recognizing the level of competence and professionalism in the other.

Mary had never struck him as being particularly good with kids, but as he watched her with Evie, he could see a connection between them. As Evie cringed when her parents voices raised and Mary clasped her tiny body close to her, he began to wonder just how familiar this family situation was to her. Mary had never talked about her family, her upbringing. Maybe he needed to start asking a few questions. He had always believed in allowing people to divulge what they were comfortable with, but perhaps with Mary, a few nudges would be needed. He was frequently at a total loss to understand what drove her. And if he understood her better, he could be a better partner to her.

The tirade carried on and Evie eventually fell asleep in Mary's arms, the flimsy barrettes in her fine hair coming loose. Mary gently removed them and was stroking her silky head. Marshall came to sit down next to them.

"Jeez, Marshall. When is the trial? I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. Seems Elizabeth hates WitSec, hates Albuquerque and I think hates her husband. She certainly hates you. Maybe they can be relocated after the trial to somewhere more to their liking – and to ours," she muttered.

Marshall looked over at her with weary eyes. "We can only hope. The trial is in six months. And it will probably go on for weeks. It's not going to be pleasant." It was rare he felt this much distaste for a witness. This couple was sapping all his natural cheerfulness right out of him.

"Well, I hope they realize what they are doing to their little girl," she said darkly. Marshall gave her an assessing look and grunted his agreement. He noticed Mary's arm start to quiver from holding up the weight of Evie's head and reached around them to place a sofa pillow under Mary's elbow. Mary smiled her thanks, relaxing back with Evie's weight.

The Praders eventually emerged, both looking beat down and sullen. Marshall quickly asked the requisite questions, got monosyllabic answers and departed as quickly as possible, drawing a somewhat reluctant Mary with him. She was watching Evie with sharp eyes, as Elizabeth walked over to pick her up. Evie's big blue eyes tracked Mary over her mothers shoulder, and she raised one tiny hand in good bye.

After they left the Praders apartment and were on their way back to the office, Marshall looked over at his silent partner. Wondered what was going on in that complicated brain of hers. Refrained from asking. Shortly before he turned into the parking lot, she said in a low voice, "It was like a flashback to when Brandi used to hide behind me and cling to me." She didn't look at him. "We had a lot of 'uncles' growing up. There were always arguments. It scared Brandi." She didn't mention it scared her too.

Marshall looked at her and carefully asked, "How old were you?" Mary continued to gaze out the window, her hair falling over her cheek, hiding her expression.

"When Brandi was Evie's age, about ten."

Marshall was stunned. So Mary had been playing caretaker from a very early age. He knew she had a sister, she had mentioned something about her stupid sister's boyfriend once. Assumed Brandi was the sister. Wondered where her father was when she was a child. Looked at her stiff and tense body, arms crossed protectively across her chest, and didn't ask. She would tell him if she wanted him to know. He began to hope that one day she would want him to know.


	2. Chapter 2 One year

Chapter 2 - One year

"Hallelujah, sweet Jesus, that is over," Mary said in a bone weary whisper. She rested her head against the car seat and closed her eyes. Marshall glanced over at her, murmured his agreement. Timothy Prader had finished his testimony yesterday. Twelve excruciating days of testimony, not including weekends or days he was not called. Their relocation 'back to some semblance of civilization' as Elizabeth called it, in this case Atlanta, was arranged, and the hand off had just taken place.

Marshall played the scene over in his mind. Tiny little Evie, clinging to Mary. Mary hugging the child like she wouldn't let go. In some strange kind of karma, Mary had come to represent stability to Evie, a refuge from her parents arguing. Evie giving Mary a butterfly kiss on her cheek. Tears welling in Mary's eyes. Watching the Praders board the private plane with their new marshals, Evie waving at them. Mary practically running back to the car, so she could hide before any tears spilled.

The last three weeks had been unpleasant, the Praders creating an atmosphere of misery for everyone around them. Mary and Marshall took turns watching Evie during the day, while Timothy was in court and Elizabeth was in attendance. Storing up ammunition to be used at a later date, Marshall thought wryly. She was actually taking notes. Of course, all of this was new to her, these revelations on a daily basis, of what Timothy had been up to. They were relieved by another set of marshals during the evenings and their haggard faces each morning as they handed off the witnesses to Mary and Marshall, testified to the acrimonious state of the Prader marriage. Marshall was seriously wondering why this couple stayed together. He couldn't live the way they did.

He had posed an oblique question about it to Timothy once. Timothy had answered with amusement.

"I know it must look to you like all we do is fight. We actually never fought much until all this happened. And frankly, when you're not around, we're fine." He chuckled at the appalled look on Marshall's face. "We made a commitment to each other, better or worse. And we've got Evie. She needs both her parents. It will be fine once this trial is over and we can start over fresh."

Evie clearly preferred Mary, which was a source of confusion for her. The few times they had previously had witnesses with kids, the children seemed to prefer Marshall. Mary thought she probably scared them. They steered a wide berth around her. Mary daily voiced her desire to spend more time in the courtroom, but as Elizabeth was unwilling to miss any of Timothy's testimony and Marshall was stubbornly refusing to go more than 50-50 on babysitting duties, she was coerced into spending many hours with the little girl. Growing more and more attached to her Marshall observed. He hoped he was calling this one correctly, that it would be good for Mary to forge an emotional bond with the child.

She was so closed off sometimes, he felt she needed a reminder she was human, that she had feelings. She wouldn't be able to shut out the precious little girl that so reminded her of her sister, just wanting to feel safe. And Marshall knew Mary could deliver that to her, that feeling of safety. Mary was one of the most compassionate people he knew, it just could be hard to see behind the gruff exterior. There were some crumbling bricks in her defensive wall however, and Marshall had been able to pry a few of those bricks loose over the last year. To see just how deeply she felt for her witnesses. How much she would sacrifice for them.

Marshall had observed to her with some amusement, that Evie was young enough, she still preferred the mother figure, for some very basic reasons. He eyed Evie sleeping, her head pillowed against Mary's chest and moved out of range of her swinging arm. "And let's face it, kids would rather sleep against something soft. You're soft." At least he certainly imagined she would be. His mind took one of those little side trips that were becoming more frequent.

Mary's murderous glare at him was his reward and he sat back in his seat chuckling. He was beginning to enjoy baiting her.

Marshall brought his attention back to his partner, thinking uneasily that this particular outing had taken a toll on her. Her face was strained, there was a tightness around her eyes and mouth. He suspected that a door into the past that had been firmly closed, bolted, nailed and boarded over was pried open by the Prader family dynamic. Mary saw something that tugged at her soul when she looked at little Evie.

He had learned one night during the trial, over several beers, that Mary's father left the family when she was just seven. She didn't elaborate, but Marshall got the impression that childhood had pretty much ended for her then. He studied her face in the dim late of the bar. They were sitting in a booth towards the back, away from much of the din that swirled around the bar. She was tracing her finger on the table, concentrating on the pattern she was making, as she talked about the father she remembered. She smiled occasionally, but her face was sad, hurt.

She told him several stories about good days with her father, when he would come home after a big win, going to the track with him. Marshall could easily see how much she loved him, how much closer she was to her father than her mother, even after all these years.

Mary had indicated that her father was a notorious gambler, it caused endless arguments between her parents and then one day he just didn't come back. She had taken another swig of beer. "Of course, if I were married to Jinx, I wouldn't come back either." She hadn't been looking at him when she made that statement. Marshall had remained silent. She didn't seem to want a response. He wondered just how much harm her parents had inflicted on her.

Her anxious glances at him spoke volumes. She was questioning if she was doing the right thing, entrusting him with this part of her life she had always held so close. Wondering, _hoping_, he was worthy of that trust. _I am Mary. I won't betray this hard won trust. _He extended his arm across the table, let his hand rest close to hers, palm up, careful not to touch her. Leaving the choice to her whether or not to accept the small token of comfort. She studied his open palm clinically, as if inspecting it for threats. Marshall felt a touch of regret as he sensed her withdrawing from him again.

"You know, you have girly palms. They look all soft and...have you ever done any actual work with your hands?" Marshall's eyebrow rose and he leaned across the table and pitched his voice low. He was willing to play things this way.

"Oh, I've done things with these hands and they haven't been girly things." Mary raised an eyebrow to match his and gingerly clasped his hand with hers.

"One day, you'll tell me about those things." She looked at him with a slight challenge in her green eyes. "Not today though." She squeezed his hand. "Thanks Marshall."

Marshall shook himself out of his reverie and sighed, tried to repress the memory of the pain in her eyes as she told him about her father. He looked once more at her still form in the car, the dark circles under her eyes, the pallor of her skin. Time to get back home and back to normalcy. They had a new witness waiting for them when they returned. Hoping that Evie would be ok, he leaned forward and started the car.

Mary opened her eyes as they pulled out from the airport and flicked her gaze at Marshall, asked reluctantly, "Do you think she'll be ok?" No need to elaborate. Marshall pondered the question. Mary wasn't interested in sugar coated answers.

"There was no evidence they were abusive in any way, other than the incessant arguing. They appear to love her. She was well cared for, fed, bathed. Didn't appear to be afraid of either of them. I think they will be much happier in Atlanta and that Evie will be just fine."

Mary harrumphed and muttered under her breath, "Wonder if anybody ever said that about me." Staring out the window, lost in thought. Marshall was able to study her a moment unnoticed, while he waited at a light. Thought again about the damage inflicted on her by selfish parents. Parenthood was a privilege, not a punishment. Felt a tongue of anger that had to be tamped down, anger towards the parents that had so emotionally stunted their daughter. Resolved once again, that he would be a good father when that day came. Would never inflict that kind of emotional pain on a child of his. Slid his eyes back to the road. Wondered what kind of mother Mary would be.


	3. Chapter 3 Eighteen months

Chapter 3 - Eighteen months

Mary had been in particularly fine form today, Marshall thought, crabbing at anyone and everyone who crossed her line of vision, including, or maybe especially, him. He didn't know what had brought it on, but he found himself actually looking forward to escaping from her for the evening. They had dropped their witness off in Little Rock and were driving back to Albuquerque, stopping for the night in the middle of nowhere west Texas. Mary had been sure there was a sign that actually said that.

Marshall had mildly responded he was pretty sure the sign said Amarillo. They had taken a slight detour as he wanted to see the Palo Duro Canyon. Had ended up renting a duplex cabin for the night. As Marshall made his retreat to his room amid a string of invective, he rubbed his head. Something was really bothering her. This was much worse than usual. Sighing, he repeated his mantra to himself - she would tell him if she wanted him to know.

It was too bad she was so worked up, she couldn't appreciate the fabulous sunset they saw driving across the west Texas plains. The open vistas gave unimpeded views of the clear sky, streaked with vibrant red as the sun sank down to the horizon. Mary was not overly taken with Mother Nature, but could usually enjoy something out of the ordinary like this. Unfortunately, not tonight.

Marshall reviewed the trip so far, looking for clues. His witness, Charles Stevenson, was an arrogant ass. Thought the rules didn't apply to him. Actually arranged to hook up with a former girlfriend. Marshall had been livid when he'd found out. A transfer was hastily arranged and he had made sure it was to even more of a backwater than Albuquerque. Marshall was well glad to be rid of him. Fourteen hours of non-stop driving and non-stop complaining from Stevenson, was enough to put anyone in a bad mood. But he sensed Mary's mood stemmed from something more than his witness. After a year and a half together as partners, he was getting pretty good at reading her moods. Today, though, he was completely at a loss.

He changed into his pjs (blue with leaping green frogs) and sat down in the rooms single chair to read the information he had picked up on the canyon. _As the second largest canyon in the United States, it is roughly 120 miles long and has an average width of 6 miles, but reaches a width of 20 miles at places. Its maximum depth is 800 feet. Palo Duro Canyon has been called "The Grand Canyon of Texas," both for its size and for the dramatic geological features, including the multicolored layers of rock and steep mesa walls similar to those in the Grand Canyon. _He must have drifted off, with the gentle patter of rain, because he startled awake at the pounding on the door and the strident voice demanding to be let in. He got up and opened the door to find a slightly damp Mary, steam practically pouring out of her ears. She pushed past him and strode over to his bed, turned around, hands on hips.

"This wonderful idea of yours, back to nature, see the canyon, stay in a cabin. Well mine leaks, right over the bed. So I'm taking your bed. You figure something else out. You can have mine if you want." She paused to take a breath and stopped short, stared at him, taking in the pjs, looked up with an expression of incredulity.

"You are a grown man right?" she asked pointing to the frogs.

He smiled, a slightly dangerous smile. Glancing down at his pants, he looked back speculatively at her.

"Oh yes," he said softly, sitting back down in the chair, and letting his gaze run up and down her, lingering just a moment too long on the spandex tank top hugging her curves. "I am." He waited a beat. "Fully grown." Mary looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then her eyes slid away as her cheeks turned faintly pink and she pulled the covers back, crawling into his bed. She turned on her side away from him and within minutes Marshall heard the even, regular breaths of her sleeping.

He smiled, considering the blush that had graced her cheeks. His response had caught her by surprise, and Marshall thought it just possible a thought had been planted in her head. His smile spread into a grin. Good. He wanted that thought in her head, that he was a man and not just a partner. He returned his attention to his book after a quick glance at his watch – 11:30. After another half hour, he started to feel sleepy again, and looked around, assessing his situation. It was either the floor, the tub or Mary's wet bed. He took the rare opportunity to study Mary unobserved, face relaxed in sleep, wondering what demons were driving her today.

Theirs had become a strong partnership over the last year and a half, and she was finally putting her trust in him, on a professional level at least. He felt like he was making some headway getting her to trust him on a personal level. Of course she was sleeping in his room, in his bed, with him there; she must have some level of trust in him. Or maybe she was secure in his knowledge he'd be a eunuch if he tried anything. Maybe, if she was still like this tomorrow, he could employ a small nudge towards getting her to tell him what was bothering her. She kept everything so close.

She really was an attractive woman, he thought, as he gazed at her face, her hair fanned out around her. Not classically beautiful, but somehow everything came together in a very pleasing manner. Sighing he fished out the extra blanket from the closet and laid down on the floor next to the bed, on the side closest to the door, a position from where he could protect her.

Marshall was awake before Mary the next morning and after quickly dressing, he left to find coffee. Mary was always better with coffee. He returned to find her packed up and ready to leave, sitting silently on his bed. He handed her her coffee and gave her a keen look. All the fight seemed to have gone out of her. She mumbled something that may have been 'thanks' and walked out the cabin door.

After a couple hours spent at the canyon, they headed out. Marshall had tried to keep his enthusing and spouting of random facts to a minimum. They were almost to Albuquerque when a very subdued Mary said in a small voice, "I'm sorry about yesterday. I know I was a bitch. It's just that was the anniversary of the day my father left." Mile after mile of west Texas scrub brush had passed by in silence. They had crossed the New Mexico border about an hour back.

Marshall glanced over at her. "I'm sorry Mary. That must have been very difficult for you." He brought his eyes back to the road.

"I never saw him again. But he loved me," she whispered in a choked voice, "I know he loved me and he still abandoned me." He could hear the tears threatening. Carefully pulling over onto the shoulder of the highway, Marshall shifted the SUV into park and turned to her. She was staring out the window, fists clenched. Sending up a silent prayer that he would handle this correctly, he warily watched her stiff form that was screaming STAY BACK. Reaching over very slowly, giving her ample time to pull away or to tell him to back off, Marshall very lightly placed his hand over her clenched fist.

She didn't react at first, then turned to blankly look at his hand on top of hers. Her shoulders started to shake and she took a big gasping gulp of air, desperately trying to fight down the sob Marshall could see rising in her chest.

"It's ok to grieve a loss," he said gently, as she dissolved in tears. He unlatched his seat belt and draped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in against his chest as sobs wracked her body. Wrapping his other arm loosely around her, he made shushing noises as she cried, his heart breaking for the pain that was released in each gut wrenching heave of her body. His eyes closed as he tried to shove down the anger he felt rising in him against the man that could cause so much pain to the woman in his arms. This woman who was becoming so important to him. Did her father have any idea of the damage he did to her? That after close to thirty years, she would still feel so much grief? He slowly ran his hand up and down her back. Did her father realize his singular betrayal made his daughter believe she wasn't worthy of being loved? _But you are, you are so deserving of love. I wish I could tell you that. I wish you were ready to hear that._

When Mary's sobs subsided, she continued to lean quietly against him. Marshall rested his chin on her head and drew her in closer to him They stayed in that position for some time before Mary finally took a shaky breath, pushed her hands gently against his chest to sit up straight and peered up reluctantly at him. Marshall looked at her with concern. "I'm ok," she murmured, "sorry." Gingerly cupping her face, he tilted her head up. Seeming to find what he was looking for, he nodded and released her, settling back into his seat.

"Let's get on home then."


	4. Chapter 4 Two years

Chapter 4 - Two years

Marshall sat at his desk, unable to concentrate, smarting from the words Epps had tossed back at him. _Maybe you're the one who needs to stop thinking what you're thinking._He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It had made him feel possessive when he saw Epps checking out Mary. Possessive and angry. She was his, no one should look at her like that. _Except maybe you? _His jaw had clenched, his whole body tightened. He literally couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth. He had to put out a warning to Epps, let him know she was off limits. And Epps had seen clear through him and called him on it. It was totally unreasonable of course. He had no more claim on Mary than Epps did. Mary didn't think of him like that. And just when had he started thinking of Mary like that? He took a deep breath, slowly unclenching his fists.

Epps was right. He shouldn't be thinking of Mary like that. _You're going to make yourself crazy. _After two years of partnership, Mary had finally come to trust him as a friend, enjoyed doing things with him on occasion. He treasured those times when she was with him off the job, when she was relaxed, when she would grant him a quick peek into her soul. It had been so hard won, those dribs and drabs he had gleaned of her life. Each tiny glimpse helped him to understand her, to add another piece to the puzzle that was Mary. The level of trust he had had to build with her, to get her to open up...

He felt she would consider him as a friend, a good friend even. Did she ever consider anything else? She slept with other men when it suited her. He knew she did. He tried not to let that bother him. It's not like he never enjoyed the company of a woman. But it had been a long time. Not since he had become aware of just how deep his feelings for Mary were becoming. Other women held little interest for him now. He had no claim on her. But it did bother him. He didn't think those men treated her like she should be treated. They were just using her. Of course, she was using them too. She deserved so much better than that. He would never use her. She deserved to be valued as a whole person, not just a hot body. She deserved to be respected. She deserved to be treasured. He would treasure her.

He cringed as he admitted to himself that he was waiting for her. When was the last time he had even had a date? He didn't sleep with anyone without a deep emotional connection. He had never even once had a one night stand. He had relationships. He wanted a relationship with her. The emotional connection was already there, on his side at least. He knew Mary had a much more extensive experience than he did. But he had learned things over the years. He had learned about listening, had learned about consideration, had learned about gentleness, had learned about giving. He had learned about loving. She just might be surprised by him.

***

Marshall left Mary with her head in her arms, stubbornly refusing to return to her waiting mother, and he headed home. He fixed himself supper and sat down on his sofa, feet propped up in the coffee table, to eat. He thought about the morning at Mary's new house and the unexpected appearance of Mrs. Shannon. Marshall considered what Mary had told him about her mother. She had clearly been horrified by her mothers appearance at her new house. To the point of not returning home. Marshall had been curious, had hoped to find another piece to the Mary jigsaw puzzle. He had taken the time to study Mrs. Shannon, failing to find much resemblance between her and her daughter, either physically or in personality.

After his brief introduction to her, he had gingerly probed for more information when they had stopped to eat. Mary had picked at her lunch, avoiding his eyes. Marshall felt a twinge of concern. Mary never didn't eat. She was silent so long, he thought she was going to ignore his question. Finally looking up at him, she compressed her lips, spoke tightly.

"My mother is an alcoholic, she's a leech who never took care of us." Marshall was taken aback at the bitterness in her voice. "She completely fell apart after my father left. I had to step up and take care of things. Make sure Brandi got fed and bathed. Make sure we both got off to school. Make sure the apartment got cleaned. Make sure enough money got squirreled away to pay the rent." She pinned him with hard eyes. "I got transferred to Albuquerque to get away from my mother, to get out from under being responsible for her. Everything I try to get away, just boomerangs and becomes a disaster. I'm telling you Marshall, I will never get rid of her. Never get away from tracking her down when she goes missing, calling the hospitals, the PDs, the bars. Never get away from her drunk rages, her tearful apologies."

Marshall was uncertain how to respond. Such private revelations. She had never given so much of herself away to him before. It was a precious gift of trust she was giving him. He felt as if his heart had been torn open by her pain and he was bleeding for her.

She slumped, all the vibrancy gone out of her. "I want my own life Marshall. And I can never have it with my mother like a millstone around my neck." She stared into her iced tea, her body rigid. "Never ending series of evictions, utility cut offs, arrests, new schools, men. Revolving door of men. I was only twelve when my mothers boyfriends started looking at me. So I had to deal with that on top of everything else. No wonder I'm so screwed up."

Marshall felt a cold tendril of horror start to curl up in his stomach. Mary looked over at him, took in his expression and favored him with a sour smile. "Not to worry Marshall. None of them hurt me. One managed to get his hand on my ass. He walked funny for a week after that. You think I didn't know how to kick ass by the time I was twelve?" Implying that attempts were made. Attempts to hurt her. He swallowed hard, pushed down that hot surge of anger he felt when anyone hurt his Mary.

He reached over and took her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. Hoped she would understand what he was trying to convey..._I'm here for you. _He wanted to tell her he was willing to share the burden of her mother, wanted her to let him comfort her, wanted to put his arms around her. Wanted her to know he would let his heart ache if it would relieve some of the ache she carried in hers.

Mary shifted her hand under his, turning her palm up to clasp his warm fingers, allowed him to keep his loose hold on her. "The only reason she's here is she must be out of money. I guarantee she will not, as claimed, help me with the unpacking. She never did. I packed up our apartments from the time I was nine years old." She caught her lower lip with her teeth and Marshall thought his heart would break. She had no one growing up, no one to take care of her, no one to protect her, no one to love her. And now she wouldn't allow anyone to take any those roles. She kept everyone at arms length. He bit his own lip as he acknowledged to himself that he wanted all those roles – caretaker, protector and lover.

Mary smiled sadly and glanced at him diffidently. "I guess I have my mother to thank for meeting you though. I never would have come to Albuquerque if not because of her." Marshall felt a small flame of warmth spread through the chill that was collecting in his gut.

"Tell me what you need," he said in a gentle voice. She looked up at him, turbulent green eyes looking into his concerned blue ones. She held his gaze so long, he began to wonder if she was looking right through him. There was something in her eyes he couldn't put his finger on. She cocked her head to one side, gauging him. Finally she chuckled, dropped her eyes back down to the table.

"How about a one way ticket to Jersey?"


	5. Chapter 5 Two 12 years

Chapter 5 – Two 1/2 years

Marshall suppressed a grin as he watched Mary's eyes glaze over. He continued to spout a mind numbing stream of information regarding the geology of the Colorado area they were driving through, throwing in the occasional fact pertaining to the Indian history of the area. He kept droning on as the miles passed by. Mary rested her head against the window pane and closed her eyes. It wasn't long before Marshall heard the soft even breaths that indicated she had fallen asleep.

Mary was pushing herself towards exhaustion and Marshall knew given enough mindless drivel she would drift off to some much needed sleep. He glanced at her as he drove, hungrily drinking in every feature of her relaxed face. It was so rare he got an unrestricted opportunity to look at her. Rolling his neck, he tried to release some of the tension that had built up during the day. He was glad they were headed home. Too bad they got detained by some missing paperwork and weren't able to leave at the time planned. They were going to have to stop for the night. It was a good six hours to Albuquerque still and it was already close to 9:00.

Marshall pulled off the highway and located a serviceable motel. He obtained two rooms and came out to retrieve a sleepy Mary, casting a quick professional look around the parking lot and outside of the motel. After opening Mary's door for her and giving her a little push into her room, Marshall entered his own room and flopped down on the bed, half-heartedly surfing through the TV channels. Stan called while he was frowning at a plastic surgery show, wondering why women felt the need to change themselves. He found most women beautiful, some extraordinarily so. Most beauty emanated from the inside. He truly believed that. And a woman who was beautiful on the inside, no matter her outward appearance, came to be beautiful to him as he got to know her.

Answering his phone, he listened briefly, then flipped off the TV and walked over to Mary's room to knock on the door. After a moment, his disgruntled partner opened the door and crossed her arms across her chest, blocking the entry.

"What." It wasn't inviting. He swiftly took in her body molding tank top and the boxers she was wearing. Closed his eyes briefly. _Down boy. _

"Stan just called. We have a new witness. Slight change of plans, He wants us to head back up to Pueblo tomorrow and pick up the witness." Mary visibly slumped and stood aside, letting him enter. Marshall carried his laptop and plugged in, downloading the information Stan sent on the new witness. He looked at her apologetically.

"Sorry, Mary. I know you're tired. We need to review the basics on the new witness though."

"I know," she said grumpily. "Go on, let's get this over with," she said through a yawn. She sat cross legged on her bed, listening as Marshall read out the pertinent details. He tried not to look over at her too much. He was afraid he would stare,_ drool more like it, _and never hear the end of it.

As he was going over the medical history, he realized Mary hadn't been contributing much. Chancing a quick look, he smiled. Mary was fast asleep, curled up on her side. Indulging himself for a moment, he let his gaze roam slowly over her. Long legs, curvy bottom, full breasts, graceful stretch of neck. Everything about her body was designed to make him want her. Him and every other breathing, straight man on the planet. Shifting uncomfortably, he sighed, turned back to the laptop, settled deeper in his overstuffed chair, stretched out his long legs in front of him, and continued to study the information on the witness.

_He woke to the sweet substantial bulk of her in his arms. His legs tangled with hers. His face buried in her neck. The heavy weight of her breasts resting against his hands clasped around her. Her lovely derrière pressed against his groin. If he were an atheist, he would believe in heaven now. She was mumbling, becoming agitated. Grasped his hands and held them even closer to her. 'Don't let go. Please don't let go'. 'Not on your life,' he whispered in her ear._

"Don't let go. Please don't let go." Marshall jolted awake. Looked down at his empty arms. Felt a rush of disappointment. Sharp, deep. He sat up in the comfortable chair, scrubbed his face with his hand, looked around the room. He realized his dreams were penetrated by one reality anyway. Mary actually was mumbling. Pulling himself out of the chair, he walked over to her. Watching her twist and turn, begging someone, (_her father? him?)_ not to leave, he hesitantly stretched out a hand and touched her shoulder, curling his fingers around the smooth slope of arm. She calmed at his touch, subsided deeper into sleep.

'Don't let go." It was a whisper. He struggled with himself. The remnants of his dream were so close, so real. It had felt _so_ real. She had felt so...nice. She fit just right against his body. And his body responded as though it were real. He wanted to capture that feeling again. He wanted, he wanted...her. Sighing, he sat down carefully on the bed and stroked her head, letting his fingers run through her hair. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "Not on your life. I won't let you go." _Oh no, you are stuck with me. _Mary eventually returned to a deep sleep, her breathing even and relaxed. Marshall stood up with regret. He would like to stay here with her, keep touching her, but that could only lead to complications. It was a place Mary was not ready to go. He wondered if she ever would be. But he was a patient man. Placing a soft kiss on her head, then retrieving his laptop, he returned to his own room.

The next morning as they headed back towards Pueblo, Mary turned troubled eyes over to him twice before speaking.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you last night." She was silent again, fidgeting with her seat belt. "My sister has taken up with some new loser called Chuck. He's bad news Marshall. I did some background on him. Petty criminal, drugs, has some dicey contacts. I can't get Brandi to listen to me. And I have weird dreams when I worry about her. Or my mother. Or anyone important to me. So, if I said anything odd, I'm sorry. I know I talk in my sleep sometimes. And I'm not sure how long you stayed." She watched him apprehensively.

Marshall considered a moment, weighing how much to say. Mary hung her head and whispered, "Just tell me Marshall."

"You were agitated, kept saying 'don't let go'. I told you I wouldn't." He turned his head towards her, held her gaze briefly, brought his attention back to the road. He waited while she absorbed this, gave her a chance to respond. She stayed silent, uncertain. He changed tack.

"So tell me about Brandi. You've never said much about her."

Mary wrinkled her face. She sighed. "Yeah, I guess, it's time I told you about her and our sordid childhood." She spoke in a quiet voice and told him how excited she was to have a baby sister. How it was like having a baby doll come to life. How she helped to take care of her. How she took more and more responsibility for Brandi after her father left. She told him about the stuffed bear Biscuit, how she gave him to Brandi so she wouldn't be afraid at night. She told him about Brandi's brushes with the law. Her drug use, her terrible taste in men.

'I think she's a good person at heart, she just hasn't been given the right guidance. She's weak. Easily led astray. And I haven't been there for her, to give her that guidance. I was so eager to escape my mother, to escape the life I had, I abandoned Brandi." Her voice was heavy with self loathing.

Marshall listened with a growing frown. Mary in self flagellation mode was not pretty. She was beating herself up over her perceived failure to Brandi. He pulled off at a rest stop, parked the car, and turned to Mary. "Come on. Let's go for a walk." He got out and came around to open her door. Offering her a hand, he forestalled her protest by placing a light finger against her lips and helped her out. She looked at him questioningly. He tilted his head towards a path behind the picnic tables.

"Come on." Taking her hand, he led her over to the path. They walked a short distance, Mary in silence. Marshall chattered on as he identified various trees and wildflowers for her, casually intertwining his fingers with hers. He drew to a stop when he could no longer hear any traffic noise and put his hands on her shoulders. The sound of chirping birds and rustling leaves surrounded them. Mary avoided his eyes and he gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

"It's not your fault. The way Brandi turned out. You were not responsible for her. Jinx and your father were. You were a child Mary. It wasn't up to you to raise her. And whatever Brandi has herself involved in right now, she's a grown woman. Responsible for her own choices." Vibrant blue eyes held storm tossed green ones. His fingers under her chin changed from a firm grasp to a gentle caress.

"It's obvious you love her very much. But she's not a child now. Part of being a big sister is letting go. Let her grow up." Marshall tried to decipher the look on her face, was taken by surprise when Mary closed the slight distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shoulder.

She mumbled and he had to strain to hear her. "You're a good man Marshall. You're a good friend. And you give good advice. Thanks." Marshall was stunned. Mary had just paid him a compliment, had said thank you, and had voluntarily walked into his arms. After giving a quick look around for the Four Horsemen, he tightened his embrace of her, felt a broad grin spread across his face and whispered in her ear, "You're welcome."


	6. Chapter 6 Three Years

Chapter 6 - Three years

Marshall waited in some trepidation for Mary to arrive at the office. She had been cranky all week. He had a fair idea of why. There was nothing he could do about it. But still, a cranky Mary was not enjoyable and they had a witness visit this morning and a new witness to pick up in the afternoon. He watched her warily as she blew into the office, irritably tossing her jacket on her chair, and stalking over to the coffeepot. It was going to be a long day.

After getting fortified with caffeine, she turned to Marshall and said sourly, "So, which pain in the ass witness do we have today?"

He became intensely interested in his paperwork, responded mildly, "Jordan Andrews. Routine visit." Waited for the shoe to drop. Mary didn't care for Jordan. Marshall had begun to suspect it was because Jordan had always displayed a bit too much interest in him. She was a relatively young woman, not beautiful by any means, but not plain either, always nicely groomed and well dressed, Great sense of humor, interested in many arcane things. Marshall quite enjoyed his visits with her, and had only started with their last visit to clue in to the fact that her attention to him bothered Mary. And Mary always had a comment to make. A sarcastic one. As WitSec inspectors, they had to be careful about emotional entanglements with their witnesses. It was very easy for a witness to develop unhealthy attachments to their inspectors. And occasionally the inspectors got too close to their witnesses. He thought about Epps and cringed.

Marshall considered Mary's reaction to Jordan. Wondered for the first time if maybe Mary was jealous. Felt a lift in his heart. If Mary was jealous that might mean she actually felt something for him. Felt something more than friendship. You didn't feel jealous of a friends interest in someone, did you? He realized a wall of silence was coming from Mary and looked up. She was frowning and just turned away, sinking down heavily in her chair.

Mary groaned and let her head flop on her desk. Her sister was coming in today _and_ it was her birthday. That annual reminder of another year passed, and with what to show for it? Marshall could see these thoughts running through her head as clearly as if she had spoken. _Getting kind of hard to maintain that 35-ish claim. Still don't have a real boyfriend. My mother is still living with me a year after coming to help me 'unpack'. Now, my troubled sister is coming for God knows how long. And to top it off, Jordan Andrews. _After three years of partnership, he knew her far better than she realized. She would be appalled if she knew she just how attuned to her he was. He was even aware of where she was in her cycle. Not knowledge he ever planned to share with her.

As they drove to Jordan's home, Marshall reviewed what Mary had told him about her sister Brandi. She had had a far larger hand in raising her than her own mother did. But Mary had left home at sixteen. Brandi would have only been about nine. And started getting in trouble shortly thereafter. Mary felt guilty about that and responsible to a certain degree. Brandi – in and out of trouble with the law, drug user, string of loser men, spotty employment history at best. And Mary was ferociously protective of her. Family. A complicated subject.

He snuck a look at her, took in her slumped profile, her head resting against the window. The bits and pieces of her personal life that he had put together over the last three years had been obtained largely during times of great emotional stress. Mary never volunteered anything willingly. He knew Brandi was a subject of conflict for her. She was her baby sister, she loved her, she wanted to make things better for her, but at the same time, she was tired of bailing her out, tired of her not listening to what Mary had to say. He was aware this impending visit and the looming 'surprise' birthday party, that was hardly a surprise, were weighing on her. He felt sure these were the reasons she had been so out of sorts all week.

He frowned slightly. There was a new man she had been seeing. Mary wasn't one to share much about her love life, but he suddenly wondered if this ball player was a factor in her mood this week. If things weren't going well...It was wrong of him to hope that was the case, because it would make Mary unhappy. But there it was. He wasn't particularly concerned about this new love interest. Men didn't tend to last long with Mary. His frown turned into a smile. Except him. Three years on and he was still here. And Mary was willingly still with him. No, he wasn't worried. At the end of the day, he was the one who was always still there. Eventually, she was going to recognize that.

Mary spoke suddenly, rousing him from his thoughts. "You know my mother is throwing me a surprise birthday party. I don't know why she can't just leave it alone. She certainly did a good job of it when I was a kid and maybe would have appreciated a party." Irritation rang through her voice. "Do you suppose there is any way out of it?"

Marshall ventured a sideways glance at her, his heart feeling tender for the neglected child that had wanted a party. "Maybe," he suggested tentatively, "she's trying to make up for past shortcomings." Mary snorted.

"Maybe, it's just an excuse to get plastered."

"Well, I think you have to go. Your sister is coming in for this party. You can't bail on her."

Mary's shoulders slumped as she acknowledged defeat. "I know." She hesitated for the briefest of moments. "You are going to be there aren't you?"

Marshall grinned. "I will not abandon you in your hour of need. Of course I'll be there. I'm not buying you a present though."

Mary chortled and shook her head. Marshall's spirits were lifting. Mary's foul mood was fading, they were on the way to visit one of his favorite witnesses, and he would have a chance to practice his Russian on their new witness they were picking up this afternoon. The day was looking up.

They arrived at Jordan's and were warmly welcomed. Jordan gave Marshall a hug. She had learned not to touch Mary. Bringing them into the kitchen and serving up iced tea, she settled down into a chair and turned a bright smile on Marshall.

"So, let's run through the questions and get them out of the way. Yes, I' m fine. Yes, work is good. No, I haven't changed jobs. No, I haven't had any contact with anyone from my past. And yes, there is something new in my life." She paused and waited expectantly.

"Ok, I'll bite," Mary said dourly. Marshall was grinning broadly. He picked up Jordan's hand.

"You got engaged!" he said excitedly, lightly fingering the ring on her left hand. Mary looked in surprise at the beaming woman and her grinning partner.

"Who is this guy?" she asked sharply. Marshall gave her a warning look. He knew her thoughts had gone immediately to potential threats, but she needed to show a bit more sensitivity. This was a happy moment.

"Good lord Marshall. You get more excited over this stuff than any woman. Are you sure you're not gay?"

Marshall looked up at her with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Very slowly raked his eyes up and down her body, then drawled in a low, seductive voice, "Yes, quite sure." He felt a sense of triumph as she grew flustered.

Jordan was laughing. "Not to worry Mary. I haven't told him anything about my past. A major breach of trust I think, but I'm putting you and Marshall ahead of my own fiancé, and am following the rules. She slid over a file folder that was sitting on the table. Here, a complete dossier on him. Or at least everything I know about him. You can check him out."

She forestalled the next question. "We've been friends for three years, I met him at church, but we really started dating six months ago. That's why I haven't mentioned him before. Your last visit, he was just a friend. We both realized we missed each other when we were apart. We just really click together. He knows me as well as any person in my new life can." Marshall had gone still as he listened to her. Small flares of hope lighting up in him. Jordan had progressed from a friendship to more. It was possible.

Jordan looked at him in amusement. "Marshall, can I have my hand back now?" He flushed as he quickly dropped her hand. "You can meet Tom anytime you want." He nodded and looked over to Mary.

"Guess we're about done here then. Congratulations Jordan. We're very happy for you." Mary gave him a look at the plural. Marshall didn't speak for her. He made a small movement, silently asking her to let it go. He had begun thinking of them in tandem. Would have to watch that. They stood and walked to the door. Marshall hugged Jordan as Mary headed to her car.

Jordan held him back a moment, kept an eye on Mary. "Marshall, you are a great guy. And I can see there are a lot of feelings between the two of you. If you want more than friendship, pursue it. I know Mary doesn't much care for me, but I think that may be because she has felt a bit jealous. I'm a warm and open person. I know this. I've been told. I enjoy your company. I've never been shy about showing that. You're a very interesting man. I think she may have misinterpreted my behavior towards you." She looked at him a moment, then continued slowly. "If Mary feels jealous, you need to ask yourself why."

Jordan squeezed his hand, smiled and gently shoved him out the door. Feeling a goofy grin spread across his face, he walked out to the car. _Jealous? Why indeed._ Marshall felt his heart soar as he saw Mary standing by the car, arms crossed, impatiently waiting. Impatient, tempestuous, fierce, savvy, smart, beautiful, sexy. His Mary. Complicated, brash, damaged, tender, passionate. Full of life, full of compassion, full of loyalty. Loyalty to her witnesses, loyalty to her family, loyalty to him.

She cocked her head to the side, the light breeze catching her hair. "What are you grinning at idiot?"

Marshall chuckled. Yes, he was an idiot, but he was her idiot. They had to pick up a new witness at the train station – Tasha – and tonight was Mary's birthday party. He would get the opportunity to meet Brandi, to get to know Mary better through her sister.

Marshall was smiling broadly. He held out his hand to Mary, was delighted when she hesitantly took it, after giving him a brief, assessing look. Life moved on. Mary was trying to find her way. And he was going to be there beside her, as she navigated her way through, moving his life in step with hers.

The End

***Thanks for reading everyone. I decided I would just take this up to the point where the show started. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
